Inked
by Arinia
Summary: Oneshot: Dean decides it's high time he honoured his brother...permanently.


**A/N: **I'm still shocked after watching All Hell Breaks Loose part one and two. What a finale! I was originally going to do tags on them but then I saw two things. One, all the other wonderful tags out there and two, the season finale of Miami Ink, another show I've become addicted to. Low and behold, an idea that I had floating around for awhile just had to be written. For those of you who don't know what Miami Ink is, it's a show that takes place in a tattoo shop where five (well now four) amazing tattoo artists…tattoo. Not as boring as it may sound. You really don't need to be a fan of Miami Ink to understand this fic. It takes place sometime around season two. Also, I have no idea what the sign on the outside of the shop says besides the word Tattoo so I decided to wing it and make up my own. So sit back and enjoy.

**P.S.** For all you other fellow Miami Ink fans, I'm fully aware you can't just walk in and automatically be on the show, but for the sake of this fic, let's pretend that rule doesn't exist.

**Warnings: **Just some language, not as much as I usually put in, I'm quite shocked with myself.

**Disclaimer: **Those gorgeous boys and the show Miami Ink do not belong to me but if anyone wants to give me Jensen Ackles I'll be only too happy to take him!

**Inked**

For what seemed like once in his life, Dean was thrilled with where the hunt was taking him. Sam had seen a suspicious death in the obituary section and from Dean's experience; it was nothing they couldn't handle. Some salt and some fire and it'd be done and over with. What Dean was really excited about was that it took place in Miami; a place Dean knew hot women gathered in the boatloads.

"So any idea where we're going to stay?" Sam looked over at him from the steering wheel. Dean had insisted Sam drive so he could 'scout for chicks." Needless to say, Sam hadn't exactly approved of that idea but he had taken the wheel anyway.

"No idea." Dean pressed his face against the window to get a better look at a blonde and made a low whistle. "Dean!"

"What? She's hot!" Sam gave him a disapproving look. "Come on Sam, have some fun. We're in Miami for God sakes! Sand, sun, and smokin' hot ladies!"

"Yeah, that may be, but we still have a hunt to do so the ladies can wait." Dean sat back down in his seat properly with a sigh.

"You are so lame dude."

1 1

At Dean's insistence, Sam managed to find a motel that was a mere walking distance from the water. After checking in, Dean immediately wanted to hit the beach.

"Dean don't you think we should be interviewing the wife of the man who died?" Dean waved his hand impatiently.

"Plenty of time for that Sammy." Sam pulled his mouth in a tight frown.

"I think we should Dean. They'll clean up the murder scene soon and I want to see if there's something useful there while we still can." Dean sighed heavily.

"Fine. You do that and I'll uhhh, interview the locals about the history of the place." Sam raised an eyebrow.

"By 'interviewing' the locals you mean getting in some girl's pants right?" Dean gave him a sly grin.

"Leave it to the master Sammy. I know what I'm doing." Sam shook his head but decided to leave it alone. He'd just make Dean do the entire grave digging as revenge.

"Alright but I get the Impala," Sam told him, making a move to grab the keys from the table.

"I don't think so! You can walk there," Dean exclaimed snatching up the keys to his baby.

"Dean do you know how far that is? It'd take me the whole afternoon!" Dean just grinned and twiddled the keys loudly.

"How can I trust you with her when you totaled her the last time I let you drive?" As soon as the words left Dean's mouth, he immediately regret them. Sam's face fell and Dean knew he was still beating himself up over the crash. Dean didn't blame him, it wasn't Sam's fault the truck driver was possessed. But it was obvious Sam thought it was. Feeling like a total ass, he put them back on the table and headed towards the door.

"Just be careful," he said softly.

1 1

"And that's how I performed my first C-section." The blonde stared at Dean in awe.

"Wow Dean, you are so smart!" She remarked flirtatiously. Dean winked at her.

"Thanks honey. It's hard sometimes, but someone has to make sure those newborn babies are safe." She nodded and moved no-so discreetly over. In his mind, Dean was doing a victory cheer. He was going to get lucky tonight!

"Hey did I ever tell you about the time…" but whatever lie Dean was going to come up with was cut short by his phone going off. "Hold on sweetheart. Sam this better be good."

"How's your interview with the locals going?" came Sam's sarcastic reply. Dean glanced over at the girl who was winking at him.

"It's going great. Now leave me alone."

"Sorry to interrupt, but I found out how the guy died. This violent spirit ripped out his spine and tossed him over the railing of the second floor stairs." Dean made a face.

"Well that sounds wonderful."

"Yeah really. That's all I could get out of her though, she went hysterical and I got thrown out by her daughter."

"Well did you check the history of the place?" Dean was getting impatient and he could see the blonde growing bored.

"No, I was hoping you would take care of that. I need to get some more salt, we're out can you believe it?" Dean could not believe his luck. So now instead of spending the afternoon "getting to know" the girl better, he'd have to spend it holed up in some stuffy library looking up boring history.

"Alright I'll check it out. But you owe me man." He looked back over to the blonde who had clearly lost all interest in him.

"Well I have to go, there's an emergency down at the hospital. But maybe we could hook up sometime later?" he asked hopefully. She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Can't, I'm busy," she said and walked out. Dean swore under his breath. Sam definitely owed him.

1 1

Dean let out an exasperated sigh and closed what seemed like the hundredth book. He had been searching everywhere in every book he could think of but he had found nothing. It didn't help that the library had no computers so he had to do everything the old fashioned way. He rubbed his temple and wished he had his geeky brother here to do all the hard work while he could sit back and relax. He glanced around and saw the setting sun outside the window near him. It couldn't take Sam _that_ long to go pick up some salt. Standing, Dean decided Sam could take it upon himself to search up the history later because Dean was utterly spent. Not to mention extremely hungry.

"Young man," a shaky voice made Dean look behind him. "I think you should pick up the books you took off the shelves if you are done with them." Dean's eyes fell upon an old lady who was peering up at him through large glasses. Dean slung his leather jacket over his shoulder and flashed her his charming smile. No woman, young or old, could resist his charming smile.

"Sorry but I've got some important business to attend to. But maybe you could help me. You know the old place, oh what's it called, Clearwater Mansion?" Dean asked hopefully. The old woman shook her head and Dean sighed. She was probably the oldest person in all of Miami. If she didn't know the place, who would?

"Well in that case then, I best be leaving." He nodded his head to her and made a quick exit. Once outside he quickly dialed Sam's phone.

"Find anything?" came Sam's breathless greeting. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam responded with a grunt and a loud thud of the Impala's trunk closing.

"Salt…two bags of it," he answered. Dean laughed.

"Two bags of salt and you're panting like a fat kid in gym. Maybe you need to cut back on the fast food."

"Ha ha. You're hilarious. Did you though?"

"No and the old lady I ran into didn't either." Sam sighed heavily and Dean could hear him start the car up. "Oy! No driving my baby while talking on the phone! You might crash her!" Sam gave a loud huff and cut the engine.

"That's more like it. I'll go look around downtown for some grub, I'll meet you at the motel." Dean clicked his phone shut and looked around eagerly. He was in downtown Miami, no pain-in-the-ass brother nagging in his ear, and the sun was going down which meant the really wild girls were about to take over. He rubbed his hands together and set off down the sidewalk.

"Las Vegas's got nothing on this!" Dean thought happily. The sights, the sounds; Dean shoved the hunt and everything else to the back of his mind. After a few minutes of oohing and aweing, Dean's eyes fell upon a building that looked very familiar. Puzzled, Dean hurriedly crossed the street and gazed up at the words that read "Tattoo Parlour" in bold, black letters. Dean scratched his chin, trying to place where he had seen it. He hadn't been to Miami since he was 14 and this building looked relatively new. So where had he seen it?

"Hey. Lookin' for somethin'?" a young female voice called. Dean looked around and spotted a very pretty, very familiar looking girl standing outside the building with a cigarette in hand. "I don't know Miami that well yet, but maybe I could try and help ya." Dean had to stop himself from staring openly at her. Where had he seen her?

"Yeah. What is this place?" The girl smiled a bit.

"It's a tattoo shop. But we've got a T.V show called Miami Ink." Realization dawned on Dean. Of course! He had seen an episode of Miami Ink when the reception for the motel T.V had been somewhat viewable. And this lady must be…

"I'm Kat. Kat Von D," she said sticking out her hand. Dean shook it.

"Dean," he responded. "So do you work here?" She nodded and took a drag on her smoke.

"Sure do. With four other artists. You have any tattoos?" Dean shook his head.

"Naw. But I've been thinking about it," he replied honestly. It was true. Dean had wanted a tattoo for a long time. But his dad had stomped that interest out of his head lightening fast. Tattoos were a waste of time, money, and skin as he so bluntly put it. Dean had kept his mouth shut after that and never mentioned or even thought of it again. Not even Sam knew.

"Well maybe you could come by tomorrow. Got any ideas?" Dean scratched his chin thoughtfully. Maybe he could get "Hot as Hell" tattooed on his ass. He grinned at the thought. Definite chick magnet.

"Yeah. Yeah I'll probably stop by. Maybe you could have the honour of doing it?" he said, turning his upstairs brain off and kicking his downstairs one into full gear. Kat laughed loudly and squashed her smoke.

"We'll see. Anyway gotta go, we're gonna be closing soon and Ami will have my ass if I don't help." Dean bid her good-bye and walked in the direction of the motel, the image of the chicks fighting to be with him, all because of a new tattoo, being played in his mind.

1 1

"You forgot the food." This simple statement blew Dean's fantasy from his mind. When he walked in the door, he planned on filling him Sam all about his idea. Of course Sam probably would lecture him but Dean wanted to spread the joy of his newfound discovery. The look on his brother's face when he found out about his secret want would be an added bonus.

But Dean forgot. Miami had taken over his mind and he forgot their food. He could see Sam was pretty pissed and a million excuses ran through his mind, each worse than the last. So he painted a smile on his face, grabbed the keys, mumbled a lame excuse for an apology, and hurried out the door, embarrassment flushed on his face. He started the car and drove a tad over the speed limit, looking for the nearest restaurant he could find. He finally found one called "Chez Mario's" and hastily pulled into the parking lot (the damn place didn't have a drive-through).

"Welcome to Chez Mario's how may I serve you today?" A young, acne covered teen spoke into the microphone. Dean could see the words "Trainee" on his nametag. Normally he would take the time to screw around with the trainees; they were so hell bent on pleasing the customers and their boss they'd do anything you'd say. But Dean didn't have time right now so he just ordered whatever he saw first on the menu.

"But Jooosh! I don't want the Kiddie meal! I'm a big kid now!" Dean could hear a young boy's voice whine loudly behind him.

"I'm sorry Kevin but that's all I can afford. Come on, they have a cool toy!" an older, but still young, voice pleaded. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see two boys, who looked like brothers, standing behind him. The older one, Josh, was bent down to his brother's level and viciously pleading with him to get the kids meal. Kevin however wanted to be a "Big boy" and had his nose stuck in the air. Dean smirked; he knew exactly what the older kid was going through. Sam had been just as stubborn as Kevin when he was that age, he still was now.

"Why do you get the big one and I don't? You're not that much older than me! You're only 10!" Oh yes. The dreaded "why" questions. Dean knew all about that horror.

"Because…because well…oh fine! I'll have the kids one then. You're such a brat!" Kevin looked up at his older brother with smugness written on his face. Dean shook his head, trying hard not to laugh. These kids reminded him exactly of how he and Sam used to be.

"Sir?" The teen had returned, with a nervous look on his face. "Your meal is uh, taking longer than expected. So, maybe if you would like to wait out in your, uh, vehicle, then I could, uh, bring it to you when it's ready?" Dean had to take a few seconds to decipher what the kid had said between all those "uh's"

"Yeah sure. Black '67 Impala." The kid twiddled his fingers nervously.

"Uh sir?"

"What?" Dean asked with a bite of impatience. The teen looked ready to wet himself.

"What does an Impala look like?"

1 1

How much time had gone by now? Dean drummed his finger impatiently on the steering wheel. Back in Black blared through the speakers, hopefully that would show that uncultured swine trainee where he was. Dean had to use all his self-control not to give the trainee a piece of his mind when he had asked what an Impala looked like. The shame! He leaned out the window and could see the two brothers behind him earlier exit the place, the younger one munching away on some fries. Dean curled his hand into a fist. How come they got their food before him? He had been in line first! As they passed by his car he caught wind of their conversation.

"…thanks Josh! You're the bestest big brother ever!"

"Bestest isn't a word Kev…" and Dean caught the glimpse of a smile on the older one's face. Dean poked his head out of the window further and could see the older one holding onto his little brother's hand tightly. Dean couldn't help but smile fondly. He had been the same with Sam. Never letting his little brother out of his sight. He remembered when he was old enough to get a job, how happy he was with his first paycheck. As soon as he got it, he had treated Sam to a movie he had been bugging to see for the longest time. They had spent the entire day together, no thoughts of ghosts or demons plaguing their thoughts, just a pretty lame action movie and a huge popcorn fight.

Their dad had been pissed though. He had come home earlier than expected and he was steaming mad when Dean and Sam came marching through the door. He had yelled and lectured them and given them both a whole load of chores to be done by midnight. Dean didn't mind doing the chores but he sure as hell didn't want Sam to pay for his idea. So when they went out to wash the car, their first chore on a really long list, Dean had a whole plan in his mind to let Sam off easy; maybe just wash a window or two. But then Sam had looked up at him with a smirk Dean had only seen on his face and uttered a sentence Dean least expected to hear.

"You let me off easy, and I won't tell Daddy you got us kicked out of the theatre."

Dean smirked at the memory. Sam had always known how to play the manipulator and Dean had to hand it to him, he was really good at it.

Remembering that memory made Dean think. Think about his childhood; think about how Sam had been his only real friend for his whole life. He thought about every close call Sam had and how, even though Sam might not have noticed, Dean had kept just a little bit of a closer eye on him; just stayed a little nearer to him. He flipped open his wallet and took out the most recent picture he had of Sam. He had taken it back in Arizona when they had been really bored and had a little extra cash to goof off.

"Here you go sir. Sorry for the uh, delay." Dean looked up and narrowed his eyes. It was that trainee again. Dean yanked the food from his grasp and put it into the passenger seat. A million smart-ass remarks passed through his head but instead he revved the engine and drove off.

1 1

"Hey Dean! Nice to see you in here," Kat greeted him as he walked into the door. Dean smiled at her.

"Well I did tell you I've got an idea," he said as he placed the papers he had clutched in his hand down. Kat leaned over to take a good look at them.

"So what do you want?" she asked. Dean watched her examine the pictures for a moment, looking for her reaction. Her face didn't reveal any amusement in it so Dean decided to take a chance and tell her his idea.

"Well I was kind of thinking about getting the tattoo on my arm, my right arm." She nodded and picked up the last paper, and the most important. Dean's heart gave an unusual lurch and he told himself to get a grip.

"This looks good. How big do you want it?"

"Well, not too big." He lifted up the sleeve to his shirt and showed Kat an idea of how large he wanted it. She stuck her pen in her mouth and nodded, murmuring to herself.

"Yeah O.K. So what exactly do you want done with this?" Dean mentally steeled himself.

"So here's what I was thinking…"

1 1

"Reception?"

"Wait…wait…got it! It's clear! And the sound is perfect!"

"Alright great. Flip around for something I gotta hit the shower." Sam settled back on his bed and sighed contently. He could hear the water run and he started to wish he had told Dean to leave some hot water for him; he always took long showers.

"…Now comes the fight to stay on top. Welcome to Miami Ink." Sam looked back to the T.V and immediately reached for the remote. He and Dean had watched this awhile back and Sam had been bored senseless. He was about to change the channel when he saw something that made his jaw drop.

"…And Dean decides to honour his brother by literally giving an arm for him." The camera flashed to Dean, his brother Dean, looking in the mirror at a tattoo and looking quite pleased. Sam stared at the T.V. dumbfounded. Dean? Dean?!

Now Sam was totally confused. He knew Dean had gone out yesterday but he had chalked that up to investigating Clearwater Mansion. In fact, that's what Dean had told him. Dean had even brought home information on the former residences of the place. So when the hell did he have time to go get a tattoo? Never mind a tattoo, when did he have time to appear on Miami Ink?

Sam put the remote down hastily and moved closer to the T.V. He needed to find out what was going on. The show told the stories of some other people Sam really didn't care about and he started to grow impatient. Finally at the half-way point of the show, it was finally Dean's story to be told.

"Dean wants a tattoo that honour's his little brother," the narrator of the show spoke. Sam could only stare as he watched his brother walk into the shop with some papers clutched in his hand. He and another tattoo artist discussed his tattoo; Dean showed her the papers and what exactly he wanted.

"Here's what I was thinking. I wanted a picture of him on my arm, on my bicep, and I wanted these two guns to kind of go at the side of his head at like an angle you know? And I wanted the tips of the guns to cross and maybe smoke coming out of them, like they had just been shot." The artist, Sam had found out her name was Kat, nodded.

"Yeah cool that sounds awesome." Dean smiled a bit.

"Yeah and I wanted Sammy written underneath it in fancy italics." Sam gaped at the T.V. Dean was getting a tattoo of him? He had heard the narrator say Dean was getting a tattoo of his brother but Sam was still too shocked about his brother being on Miami Ink to process this information. Now it was finally sinking in.

"I wanted to get a tattoo of Sammy because…he's my brother…my little brother." Dean had come on the screen and Sam could see he really didn't want to explain why he was getting a permanent marking of his brother on his arm. Sam had to smile at that. Dean really didn't know what he was getting himself into.

"Do you want it colour or in black and white?" Kat asked. Dean scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Black and white," he finally decided. After a few words, Dean left the shop and the show went to commercial. Sam sat there, a million emotions running through his head. Anger at Dean for spending their money and appearing on T.V. of all things. Confusion, because why the hell did Dean want a tattoo, a tattoo of him anyway? Then there was affection because Dean got a tattoo of him, taken the time to go out and get something worthwhile and meaningful. And it was him!

The show went on and from time to time they showed Kat working away at sketching Dean's tattoo. After what seemed like forever, Dean finally came back, looking excited to see what Kat had drawn up for him.

"Oh yeah, that looks awesome!" Dean said, astounded. Kat placed the tracing on his arm and Dean looked at it in the full length mirror they had.

"Yeah, that's going to look great." Kat motioned for him to sit down on the chair and began to tattoo him.

"So how old is your brother?" she asked him.

"23," Dean answered. "Celebrated his birthday awhile ago actually."

"Ah I see. You guys close?" Dean nodded a small smile on his face.

"Yeah he's…he's my best friend." Sam felt a rush of affection for his brother. He was so immersed in the show he didn't notice that the water had stopped running.

"Yeah I totally know how he feels, me and my family are close to. That's why I have a tattoo of my mom right here." The scene had cut to Kat who was talking to the camera by herself.

"So why'd you want to get one of your brother?" Dean was silent for awhile; Sam could see the internal struggle on his brother's face of how honest Dean wanted to be.

"Well, he's my brother and…well…I always…it's been my job…" Dean struggled to string a sentence together and Sam was shocked. Dean at loss for words? He thought he'd never see the day. "It's kind of…my responsibility…to look…out for him. And…I think…I need to do this…just too…set it in stone you know?" Kat nodded wisely as she wiped off the excess ink. Sam was faintly aware of a door opening and his brother's footsteps making their way towards him but his mind told him to keep on watching.

"Sam you better not have found some soap opera or I swear…" Dean's voice trailed off and Sam forced his eyes to tear away from the screen and look at his brother's face. Dean was standing five feet away, his mouth open and his eyes wide with shock. His eyes flickered to the T.V where the Dean on the show was currently telling Kat how Sam hated being called Sammy. Sam could see Dean look back at him and back at the T.V.

"You…" he started but his voice trailed away again. Sam wished desperately his eyes could look in two directions at once; he really wanted to see how Dean's tattoo was coming along.

"Is your brother still around?" Kat asked. Sam decided it was time to let Dean sort himself out and looked back to the T.V. He wanted to see if Dean had lied about this.

"Yeah he is. He doesn't know I'm getting this actually." Dean chuckled. "He thinks I'm at the library." Kat snorted.

"He bought that? You don't seem like the type who would spend their day reading." Dean shook his head.

"Oh I'm not but I think he just wanted to get me out of his hair." His brother made a noise between a growl and a forced laugh and Sam turned back to him.

"Sam…how…how'd you…find that?" Dean asked swallowing loudly.

"I flipped around." Sam's lips quirked into a smile at Dean's anger.

"Sam, give me the remote right now." Dean outstretched his hand but Sam held it close to him.

"No I want to see the rest of this." Sam heard Kat ask how he got the nickname Sammy. "I'd like to know that myself," he said jerking his head towards the screen. Dean took a step foreword and Sam held the remote closer to his chest.

"Damnit Sam I mean it!" Sam snickered and turned up the volume full blast.

"Well his real name is Samuel and that name just sounds like it belongs to a stupid fat kid and Sam doesn't suit him so I came up with Sammy. He hates it though." Dean had had enough. He lunged at Sam and with his quick hunter reflexes, Sam dodged out of the way. Dean landed on the bed with a thump and watched Sam dance around with the remote held high above his head. Dean did a football tackle and the pair landed on the ground wrestling like there was no tomorrow. Sam tried to escape but Dean always managed to catch onto one of his long limbs and drag him down again.

"What's he gonna say when he finds out you got a tattoo of him?" Kat's voice filled the motel room and made Dean even madder.

"I have no idea but…I hope he'll like it." Sam let out a very loud laugh and earned a punch in the ribs.

"Oh I like it Dean. I _really_ like it." Dean let out a low growl.

"Alright you're done!" Sam heard Kat say and he twisted his head around to look at the T.V. He could see Dean hopping off the chair and quickly making his way to the full length mirror.

"HA!" Dean snatched the remote and quickly switched the channel. Sounds of gunshot and screaming reverberated off the wall and Dean let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Dean!" Sam screamed in protest. "I want to see what it looks like!" Dean got off him and shoved the remote in his pocket as far down as it would go.

"Too bad. You just ruined your rights." Sam scrambled to his feet, dusting his wrinkled clothes off.

"Come on, let me see."

"No."

"Dean."

"No!"

"Deanie-Weanie."

"You shut your mouth right now Sammy!"

"Deanie-Weanie! Deanie-Weanie!"

"Sammy!!"

"I won't stop until you show me!"

"You aren't ever seeing it you little shit."

"I can call you Deanie-Weanie until the world ends. I'll tell all the chicks your name is Deanie-Weanie. I can make your fake credit cards say Deanie-Weanie. I can…"

"ALRIGHT! You can see it just shut-up!" Sam gave Dean a very smug look as he walked over to where Dean was now standing slumped in defeat.

"Lift up your sleeve," Sam prompted eagerly. Dean made a very dramatic show of slowly pulling up his sleeve on his arm and making a very disgusted face. Sam watched as the words _Sammy_ came into his line of sight, followed by a picture of him and two guns on either side of his head pointed up at an angle and meeting at the tips with cool smoke coming out their ends. Sam gingerly touched the protective plastic wrap covering the mark and quickly pulled back as Dean flinched.

"Sorry. It looks good though." Dean grunted as a reply. "Seriously, she did a good job with it." Sam straightened up and tried to meet his brother's eyes. "Why'd you choose guns?" Dean sighed wearily and finally looked at his brother.

"'Cause we hunt," he answered slowly.

"Two of them?" Sam asked confused.

"Yes," Dean mumbled. "One is you and one is…me." Sam could see Dean was embarrassed so he decided to ease off the interrogation.

"Clever." He peered at it again. "Not the best picture of me though." Dean smirked. "Couldn't find a decent one?"

"Hell no. You're not very photogenic." Dean pulled down his sleeve and sat down on his bed. Sam mimicked his movement and cast around for something to say. Luckily Dean saved him the trouble.

"Want to watch the rest of it?" Sam's lips twitched into a faint smile.

"Sure." Dean flicked back to the channel and settled in. Sam propped himself up on his elbows, glancing once more back at Dean. Dean met his eyes and slowly smiled; a genuine smile. Sam returned the smile and they stayed like that for a brief second. They may not say it often, actually they hadn't said it in years, but Sam knew this was Dean's way of saying it and Sam read it loud and clear.

_I love you Sammy._


End file.
